don't talk 'bout me like how you might know how i feel
top of the world, but your world isn't real
top of the world, but your world isn't real
Her sister’s hello to the Sword’s companion is as good a confirmation as hearing from the hellhound himself – her tail wagging slightly at the tip as she relaxes, flashing a feline smile toward the Warden. Say less. Caly chimes on the heels of her sister – and perhaps it’s her sister’s overabundance of her vibrant, energetic mood, but Caly’s already starting to feel better.
Her sister claims the upstairs once they’re inside, the tide jaguar steps in to see the rather mundane interior. It feels cold and empty and Caly – despite the mood she might be in – doesn’t like spaces that feel more like prisons than like homes. I’ll scout out the basement. She hums to Deimos, bounding away for the stairs that would lead her downstairs, ears perked and a stealthiness overtaking her paws.
Caly picks the basement!
Her sister claims the upstairs once they’re inside, the tide jaguar steps in to see the rather mundane interior. It feels cold and empty and Caly – despite the mood she might be in – doesn’t like spaces that feel more like prisons than like homes. I’ll scout out the basement. She hums to Deimos, bounding away for the stairs that would lead her downstairs, ears perked and a stealthiness overtaking her paws.
Caly picks the basement!
Calypso
your world's an ideal
